Pas De Deux
by Soz
Summary: 1971. Voldemort rise to power through the eyes of Cornelius Fudge's sister. Centers on a serial-killer Death Eater and Alastor Moody.
1. Opening Chords

PAS DE DEUR   
PROLOUGE-- ELEVEN YEARS  
  
NOVEMBER 6, 1981   
  
It took Alastor Moody nine years to gain authorization to Azkaban.   
  
It took him two more to make his visit look inconspicuous.   
  
It took him three days to make sure the dementors were as deaf to what he would do as they were blind.   
  
It took him four hours to plan the act.   
  
It took him less than sixty seconds to find the cell.   
  
Slamming the cell door shut, Moody saw him for the first time in twelve years, Those years had been kind to neither of them; they had reduced Moody to an embittered person, scarred inside and out, and Sejanus was a husk of his former self... empty, staring silently at the wall.   
  
His eyes focused on one thing; Moody took a step into the room... clunk...  
  
"Alastor," Sejanus turned slowly, the dim light revealing his sunken face.   
  
...clunk... Moody took a step closer and knelt down nest to his one-time friend. "Your master's dead, Sejanus," Moody tilted his scarred face, whispering into the prisoner's ear.   
  
Sejanus bowed his head, and spoke with a doomed resignation; "He's not my master..."   
  
Moody did not reply, instead he was fingering something deep within his robes.   
  
Sejanus stared at the wall again, his expression slackened and his eyes grew vacant. When he next spoke, it had a hollow and dead sounding tone, "I saw them bring in Sirius Black two days ago. I remember Sirius Black from before... here..."  
  
Moody's voice was low, little more than a hiss, "I remember people who were still alive before you came here."   
  
Sejanus's voice cracked into a sob, "I didn't mean to kill her--" his words stopped, wrenched off in a strangled scream.   
  
"Too late now," Moody said quietly as he pulled the knife from Sejanus's back, watching as the heartbeats grew weaker... and stopped, as the death blood poured out, into the oppressive void that was Azkaban. He stared into the prisoner's vacant eyes, "Too late."   
  
  
  
CHAPTER ONE-- OPENING CHORDS  
  
DECEMBER 25, 1970  
  
The lights dimmed the gentle buzz of chatter replaced by the keening of a violin. Swan Lake, not your ordinary Christmas ballet, but that was all forgotten as a breathless hush fell over the audience. Every single eye was glued to the stage, flooded with light and painfully empty. Liv waited in the wings, her heart pounding in two-four time. Suddenly the cue came and she ran out into the blazing spotlights. The key to dance was not to think, but to simply be the movement-- feel all parts of your body as once whole and let your mind go. Trust your feet to move in the endless two-hour rhythm of coupé jeté, pas de bourrée... assemblé, a series of piqué turns-- and then, as the last keening note held, the last pirrotte spun, no one spoke, no one blinked, no one swallowed spit. Then, like a rising wave, came the wall of tumultuous applause.   
  
  
----  
  
  
"I'll have a corned beef on rye, no mustard... with cheddar cheese."   
  
"Coming right up, miss."   
  
Liv yawned, feeling the unbearable weariness that can only come right after a performance. Finally escaping from the bouquets of flowers and crowds of fans, Liv had kicked off her descent into anonymity at a 24-hour deli, not a place frequented by the same crowd as the London ballet. The deli was truly a grubby place, its only modern conveyance a gleaming digital clock, daring to blink out the heinous time (1:03 AM) in an angry red. Everything else was 20s retro, retro-ed so convincingly that it looked as if it had been installed in the 20s and aged considerably since then. No great Parisian interior decorator could have set foot in the eloquently named "24 hour deli" without immediately suffering spontaneous combustion. The colour scheme (or lack thereof) varied in shades of brown ranging from an "alternating speckled rawhide" countertop to the "medieval interstate 64" ceiling tiles.   
  
"Hey, aren't you a ballet dancer?"  
  
Turning around in a world of annoyance, Liv was tempted to scream, "No!" but her better nature won out. Heaving a great sigh, she said, "Yes."   
  
"Yeah, I saw you tonight," the man was leaning over the counter next to her, his curly black hair going in about a million directions at once as he chewed absently on a straw.   
  
"Did you like it?" Liv said, surprised that a man who so radiated GRUNGE had even been let into the performance.   
  
"No," he said flatly, giving the straw a good chew, "I hate ballet, one of my friends gave me the ticket."   
  
Liv felt a smile coming on, at least he was frank, "Why don't you like it?"  
  
He gave he a mischievous grin, "You let me walk you home and I'll tell you."   
  
She glared at him; "I really don't think so."   
  
"Suit yourself," he said in a tone that made it sound as if he could not care less. This only served to infuriate Liv further, which seemed to be this man's goal in life. Sitting down on one of the "light mocha" barstools, Liv gave a half-hearted glance at the paper, and a tiny box in the corner caught her attention.   
  
"Alastor Moody, 41, of London, caught in the assaulting of Laurel Brock, 24, last Thursday. Moody was released without charges today on the bail of a Cornelius Fudge, 36. Fudge denies comment."   
  
Liv rolled her eyes as she pushed the paper away. Denying comment was what Cornelius was best at, she knew him all too well for comfort. Liv glanced up to find the straw-chewing man still staring at her. Scowling she grabbed her sandwich and flounced out of the shop.   
  
"Cold are we?" with a rush of annoyance, Liv realized the man from the deli had followed her outside, still chewing on his infernal straw.   
  
"What are you doing?" she snapped angrily.   
  
He gave her the same sly grin; "Can a person slink around the streets anymore?"   
  
"Slink away!" Liv glared.   
  
"D'you mind if I slink you home?"   
  
Before Liv could stop herself, she gave a wisp of a smile, "That was lame."   
  
He shrugged, "I'm not the one who's laughing."   
  
"I'm not laughing!"  
  
"Yes you are."   
  
"No, I am not--" she said, as suddenly as small giggle escaped her, "It was still lame."   
  
"So, what's your name?" he said, giving his trademark grin, "I lost my program."   
  
Liv raised an eyebrow; "You really got this whole manners think down to a tee, hmm?"   
  
"'Scuse me, Madame, for not knowing every detail of your exalted existence," he said sarcastically.   
  
She extended her hand; "I'm Livilla Aulnais." It was a stage name, but he did not have to know.   
  
He blinked before taking her hand, "Livilla?"   
  
"My mother's name is Livia, in Latin Livilla is little Livia. Most people call me Liv."   
  
"I'm not most people," he said with the slightest bit of mockery.   
  
"Well?" Liv said pointedly.   
  
"Well what?" the man stopped in midstride.   
  
"Aren't you going to introduce yourself?"  
  
"Roger Davis," he said taking her hand for a second time.   
  
"Roger, hmm?"   
  
"That's my name."   
  
"So why did you want to talk to me?"   
  
Roger cave his cheeky smirk, "Who wouldn't?"  
  
Liv was glad it was dark so he couldn't see her blush," Be serious."   
  
"That's hard for me," Roger ran his hand through his curly hair, "Seriously? I don't know, I saw you in the deli, recognized you, and figured why not."   
  
"So I'm just a whim?" Liv said dryly.   
  
"Yeah, you could put it that way," Roger grinned, "I'm sorry, you're not the center of my universe."   
  
"This is where I live," Liv said coldly, abruptly stopping in front of a small stone town house.   
  
Roger stopped too; "Can I see you again?"   
  
Liv looked down at him, nonplussed, "First you insult me, then you ask to see me again?"   
  
"You know you want to," he said gently, catching her arm.   
  
And with a sickening chill, Liv realized she did. Infuriating as he was, Roger was the only person she "knew" who did not treat her as if she was made of glass. "Alright," she sighed, attempting to sound as put upon as possible.   
  
"Tomorrow night?"   
  
Liv shook her head, "No, I have a party to go to." If she took Roger to that party... the results would be devastating.   
  
"So do I," he grimaced, "I'm looking for an excuse to get out of it. Alright, the next night?"   
  
"Sure," she said with a faint smile.   
  
"I'll pick you up around eight, then," he grinned, obviously very pleased with himself.   
  
"Well... bye then," Liv said, feeling slightly awkward.   
  
"Eight!" Said Roger, pointing at her, before walking down the street. Much against her will; Liv stood on her doorstep and watched until he disappeared into the abyss of city night.   
  
  
----  
  
  
  
Not for the first time that evening, Liv regretted not taking Roger up on his date. As she apperated in front of the lively red and green house, a growing sense of dread, mainly brought on by the cheery Christmas carols blaring from inside, overwhelmed her. Gritting her teeth as she passed through the doorjamb, Liv found herself in a world of extremely alarming and quite possibly dangerous red and green tinsel.   
  
Sighing, she entered her brother's party.   
  
Completely in tune with his character of the perfect gentleman host, he brother waited by the door, earnestly shaking the hands of everyone who entered. A posh bureaucrat with a future as bright as his spit polished spats, he knew everyone who was anyone and had invited them all. With his blond hair plastered to his head and his red and green striped dress robes, Liv's brother hearkened to a festive penguin more than the dignified image he was trying to present. "Livilla!" he said, in a tone that made it sound like he was trying to sell her something. Other than her parents, he brother was the only person who ever called her Livilla. "Welcome back! I'm so glad you could come."   
  
Liv forced a smile; "I wouldn't have missed it, Cornelius." It was rather sad; she thought when she had to use the same voice she reserved for ballet donors on her own brother. He turned away, ready to curry favor with a new guest.   
  
Walking through the maze of seasonal cheer, Liv was almost glad she had not brought Roger. She could not imagine his lounging around on Cornelius's plush living room furniture, couldn't see him hob-nobbing with the wealthy guests. However, there was another, more integral reason against bringing Roger. Liv was a witch, she was sure he would love that, but it was simply beside the point. For thousands of years, the muggle (or non-magical community) had lived unknowing of the magical one existing beside their own. If, after all these years, Liv blew their cover, it would be worth more than one lousy night at her brother's. Why was she thinking about Roger, anyway? He had no right to keep perusing into her thoughts like this, but in the seconds that she had known him, having a right to do anything seemed the least of Roger's concerns.   
  
"Liv, darling!" turning around, Liv felt a sense of impending doom even stronger than the feeling she got when hearing the opening chords of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer". Mrs. Agatha Crunchmas was an old friend of her mother's who had somehow gotten it into her head that Liv was her "pet". She stood, her arms outstretched in an attempt to hug the quailing Liv.   
  
"Mrs. Crunchmas..." Liv said, stretching her polite quota to the limit as they embraced, Liv trying to avoid the yipping dog under the old lady's arm.   
  
"Liv, dear, when are you coming back to us magical folk, we miss you ever so much!" Mrs. Crunchmas compulsively pet the head of the tiny little dog she carried around like a fifth limb.   
  
Liv forced a smile, "I'm very happy where I am, thank you."   
  
Mrs. Crunchmas moved her hand dismissivly, "Oh ballet is all very well and nice, but I have a friend in the Ministry who could get you a very nice desk job. God knows we need all the help we can get."   
  
"What do you mean?" Liv raised an eyebrow. Her "so-called" isolation from the wizarding world had its disadvantages.   
  
"Don't tell me you haven't heard!" Mrs. Crunchmas looked scandalized and Liv was on the verge of screaming in frustration. "You must have heard of Lord Voldemort, my dear?"   
  
If Liv had any guttural reaction she kept it well concealed and simply shook her head; "It sounds vaguely familiar."   
  
Mrs. Crunchmas heaved a heaved sigh, "I do wish I could preserve your innocence my dear, my dear. Lord Voldemort is a powerful dark wizard; he surfaced in the Soviet Union near Drumstang, about six months ago. Since then, he has been gathering supporters, who call themselves Death Eaters. Ministry officials are being murdered left and right. Some call Voldemort the next Grindewald, but personally I think they are blowing the situation completely out of proportion."  
  
For the first time in her life, Liv was interested in what Mrs. Crunchmas had to say," How many Death Eaters are there?"   
  
Mrs. Crunchmas clucked her tongue disapprovingly, "Too many, and growing everyday. Only one has been caught, Laurel Brock. The man was babbling like an idiot, scared out of his wits they say. All we got out of him was the Death Eaters had some sort of brand to identify each other but they searched his body and found nothing. Alastor Moody was the one who caught him, my dear. You know Alastor, of course-- poor thing, Brock let out a few good hexes before he was overpowered." She had said this all very fast and was now pausing for a deep breath.   
  
"How awful," Liv said. Despite the fact that aurors made her nervous, Alastor Moody was one of the few acquaintances of Cornelius she actually liked.   
  
"And that's not all!" Mrs. Crunchmas said conspiratorially, drawing Liv closer towards her, "Some people say Brock was with another Death Eater who got away. Alastor found Brock attempting to break through the ward spells on the Department of Dark Magic Annihilation, heavens knows why, but in the morning the wards were down and some files were stolen. Top secret files," she added in a tone of great relish.   
  
"Really?" Liv said, picking at her nail, while glancing around for a mode of escape. "Mrs. Crunchmas, if you would excuse me--" and then she ran away before the old lady could ask for her non-existent reason. In her flight, Liv nearly tripped over a man standing by the stairs, "Careful there, lassie," he said, steadying her.   
  
"Alastor," Liv smiled, relieved to find a remotely rational human being in this festive cheer. Out of all of Cornelius's ministry acquaintances, Alastor Moody was the one she liked the most. A tall man around forty, Alastor's ruggedly handsome features were disfigured by a single scar running along the right side of his face. "Liv," he grinned, "Its been a while."   
  
"Indeed," she smiles, taking his outstretched hand.   
  
"Before you elope and leave me, would you mind introducing this beautiful woman?" For the first time, Liv noticed the woman on Alastor's arm.   
  
Alastor looked at her, and a smile softened his weather-beaten features. "Liv, this is our newest auror, and my fiancé, Chita Ramone," he said, grinning as if he had just won the lottery. And in a way, he had; Chita looked more like an exotic dance than any sort of auror.   
  
"Nice to meet you," she said with a slight accent.   
  
"You too..." Liv replied, taking in the perfectly manicured hands, the impeccable hair, and the red dress, that managed to fit like it was painted on and cover less than one of her ballet leotards.   
  
Alastor's harsh brogue cut her appraisal short; "Chita was an auror in the Ministry over in Spain."   
  
"I was transferred when Voldemort... appeared... and focused his attacks on Britain," Chita said in English so perfect, there was no way it could be her first language. "Alastor tells me you are a dancer."   
  
Liv shrugged, still wary about the newcomer, "For the London ballet... I really don't get around in the wizarding world much." Liv wondered why she said that, she had never been much good at small talk.   
  
"I used to dance myself," Chita said, fingering her empty wineglass and looking at Alastor with big cow eyes.   
  
"Among other things," a new voice joined the conversation, "Gourmet chef, jazz singer, first class auror, animagus... If I hadn't known Alastor forever, I might consider stealing you. I got your wine, by the by."   
  
Alastor stepped forward, "Liv, this is Sejanus Cox, my absolute best friend. Sejanus, this is Liv Fudge."   
  
Glancing at Sejanus, Liv almost choked. He gaped at her, an almost identical expression of surprise on his own face, which he quickly masked with a superior grin. "No wonder you don't use your real name," Sejanus smirked, somehow holding three glasses of wine in his hands while absently chewing a straw.   
  
"I could say the same for you," Liv snapped.   
  
Sejanus shook his head and said in a tone of sarcastic reverence, "We live in such dangerous times, safety comes before truth."   
  
"Shut your trap," Alastor growled, "Am I missing something?"   
  
"We've met," Liv said in a cloud of fury. "Only that time his name was Roger."   
  
"A rose by any other name, would smell as sweet," Sejanus said, biting his straw with a flourish.   
  
"You are truly an idiot," Alastor smirked.   
  
"Touché," Sejanus shrugged, "Anyway, take your wine," he said handing Alastor and Chita their glasses. "Sorry it took so long, I was cornered by Cornelius Fudge. He wants to put more restrictions on the Dark Arts program; I told him to mind his own business, so I don't think I'll have to come to any of these parties anytime soon, unlike you," he said, gesturing to Liv. "He's your brother I presume, Fudge isn't all that common a name."   
  
"Unfortunately," Liv said with a sigh.   
  
"Right," Sejanus smirked. "Only don't let him hear it, or he'll find some way to connect you to Lord Voldemort."   
  
"Sejanus," Chita said disapprovingly, the name rolling off her tongue.   
  
"It's true," Sejanus shrugged. "Anyone politically damaging to the Ministry suddenly becomes a Death Eater. Strangely sick fad, if you ask me."   
  
"I thought only one Death Eater was captured," Liv said.   
  
"Only one was convicted," Alastor said gruffly.   
  
Chita smiled sweetly over her glass of wine, "And you caught him."  
  
Sejanus snorted, either at her open display of affection or at the topic of conversation, Liv couldn't tell. "There wasn't much left of him to convict."   
  
"He got a life sentence in Azkaban," Alastor said for Liv's benefit.   
  
"Poor man," Liv said absently, "You wouldn't think anyone would deserve the dementors..."   
  
"You'd be surprised," Alastor muttered gruffly, taking a swig of wine.   
  
"Its barbaric," Liv said, miffed.   
  
Chita gave her a long piercing stare. "Let us hear you call it barbaric when they burn your house, kill your family, hmm?"   
  
"Excuse me?" Liv growled.   
  
Chita shrugged airily, "You're simply naive. It's not your fault."   
  
Before Liv could make a reply that gave voice to the fury she was feeling, Sejanus, obviously sensing trouble cut her off; "Does anyone else want to leave?"   
  
"Yes," Liv said, glaring at Chita, who remained annoyingly aloof.   
  
"We'll stay," said Alastor catching on.   
  
"See you later then," Sejanus said, catching Liv's arm.   
  
"Before you go back up north," Alastor said, steering Chita the other direction.   
  
Feeling herself being pulled towards the door, Liv rounded on Sejanus. "What do you think you're doing?"   
  
He blinked at her, "avoiding possible catastrophe. Chita is known to get curse happy when you give her the chance, and you don't look all that stable yourself."   
  
"Get off of me!" Liv screeched. "You-- You are so--"  
  
He pulled the straw out of his mouth; "I am so?"   
  
"Forget it," Liv growled, starting towards the door, "Just forget it."   
  
Sejanus stared at her, and finally spoke, "Look, you just don't know Chita-- I'm sorry for dragging you away like that, ok?"   
  
Liv blinked, surprised to hear anything as human as an apology coming out of Sejanus's mouth. "I'm sorry, too."   
  
He smiled, "For what?"   
  
She shrugged, "Being a bitch..."   
  
He nodded slightly, "Yeah, you are good at that, I'm just kidding--"  
  
In spit of herself, Liv felt the beginnings of a smile, "You had better be."   
  
"Let me walk you home," he said, "I have to get my coat from the closet."   
  
Striding away from Liv, he reached for a door on the right. "Wait!" she began, "That's the bathroom!" However, what Liv saw next made the last mistake seem miniscule. As Sejanus pulled open the bathroom door, what was unmistakably a body fell out and hit the floor face down with a sickening crunch. A primitive instinct told everyone in the room what that crunch was, the same primitive instinct that raised every hair on every neck, kept every tongue locked behind every lip, kept every bone stock still, kept even breath inside. After an eternity of heartbeats pent up in miniscule seconds, someone spoke, "Bloody hell." Speak of the devil or not, bloody hell was exactly what broke loose.   
  
It was Mrs. Crunchmas who first screamed, her screams cloned over and over all across the room, the panic murdering the earlier shock. It was the assassination of Kennedy, the murder of Caesar, the sinking of the Titanic, only this time the band was too afraid to play on.   
  
Sejanus, standing right next to the body, too shocked to move, suddenly knelt down and pushed it over-- two things happened at once. The first, a great cry took hold, "Dippet! Edwin Dippet! Dead!" The second, slowly at first and then faster, with growing menace a trickling column of green smoke drifted out of Dippet's lifeless mouth, curling, whipping, thrashing... into a hideous shape of a skull. Out of the skull's mouth, like some sadistic parody of a tongue, a snake emerged, baring its poisoned fangs. The snake reared, as if to strike at them all... and stopped. The horrible smoke figure hung there in the air for almost a full ten seconds, ten seconds where no heart beat, no breath was taken, all were paralyzed, staring at the blatant evil hovering above them. Then, as suddenly as it had come, it dissolved into nothing.   
  
Through the shredded remnants of festive cheer, Alastor's spoke, giving voice to the one thought resilient on every single mind, "Voldemort."   
  
  
----  
  
  
It took the hit wizards three hours to stop asking Sejanus for his story ("I opened the closet and Dippet fell out"), and another half an hour fending off the concerned Alastor, furious Chita, and blustering Cornelius. The official report was that another Death Eater, probably Brock's accomplice, had murdered Dippet, because Lord Voldemort himself could not easily slip in and out of a ministry party. Liv felt half-guilty for not caring overmuch, but she was more than relieved to finally see her own apartment. There was a swoosh of air as Sejanus apperated alongside her. "Cozy little place you got here," he said plopping down on the sofa as Liv lit a fire from across the room.   
  
"Where d'you live?" she asked suddenly, sitting down beside him.   
  
"In Scotland," he said, pulling out the straw that the hit wizard interrogator had given him. "I live up at Hogwarts, actually."   
  
Liv raised an eyebrow, "Whatever for?"   
  
"I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."   
  
"Seriously?"   
  
"Yes... why?"   
  
She gave a slight smile, "You don't seem like the teaching type."   
  
He put the straw back into his pocked, "I didn't even know there was a teaching type."   
  
Liv shrugged, "There probably isn't..."   
  
"Then how could I be one?"   
  
"Forget it."   
  
Sensing the lapse in conversation, Sejanus began to ramble, "I actually like teaching. Its the students, I have this second year James Potter, absolutely insane, worse than I was in fact, especially when he's with his friends. There was this class on werewolves before holidays..."   
  
However, Liv ceased to listen to the escapades of this James Potter. Maybe it was the flickering firelight, maybe the fact it was midnight, maybe the stressful evening, or any combination of a million different factors. But the feeling she had been edging around all evening was finally catching up with her. Surprising even herself, Liv reached out and caught Sejanus's hand. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but she shook her head... and slowly lowered herself into the kiss.   
  



	2. Entr'acte

hey guys! sorry for no Author's note of Pas De Deux I, I'm finally back from AZ and as always I would greatly appreciate it if you would read and REVIEW (I got an overwhelming number of reviews on Pas De Deux I... :O) ). Anyway, even though it has allot of original characters, this story really is about Harry Potter, or rather Alastor Moody, so please READ IT (and may I add review?) anyway for those of you that don't know, all the French Terms in part one (assemblé etc...) are ballet moves, and a Pas De Deux is a duet in ballet, so that's where the title comes from. sorry it took me so long to post this, but ballet (speak of the devil) just started and I've been juggling a million and a half things. Thanks very much to Juliana, NS, and Peeves for reviewing, it meant a whole lot to me, email me all of you sometime... even though its currently broken and I cant send any outgoing messages. and for those of you that want to, read Rowena Alana's story (absolutely great) Hyphen's (the best MWPP author on this site) or of course WolfieTwins's Call of the wild, which had to be the most amazing story I've ever read, published or not. But enough, enough already, hope you enjoy it and please review...  
  
PAS DE DEUX II-- Entr'acte  
  
JULY 15, 1973  
  
"It is with great dismay, and even greater fear that the Daily Prophet reports the death of Ms. Evy Roton-Eldrich, the third Minister of Magic in the last year and a half. Ms. Roton-Eldrich was found in her Charing Cross Road Apartment by a team of hit wizards last night, who were alerted to the tragedy by a swirling dark mark. An inside source at the Ministry relates that the main suspect for the murder is the Death Eater who has been striking fear in the hearts of wizards everywhere, commonly dubbed "Lucifer". "Lucifer", who made his first appearance on the night of Laurel Brock's capture is also blamed for the death's of 15 prestigious wizards over the past eighteen months; including Edwin Dippet, a former Hogwarts headmaster, and Adam Pascal and Otto Thompson, Ms. Roton-Eldrich's predecessors as Minister. Ms. Roton-Eldrich will have a private funeral in her hometown of Lenox this Saturday at St. Brigade's of the Wildflowers. Donations in her memory should be made to either the Dark Force Defense League or the Royal Society for the Protection of Marshland Wildfowl.   
  
For Biography see Page E7."   
  
Cornelius Fudge laid down his paper with a sigh. Powerful wizards dropping like flies, this Lucifer was simply playing with them, whoever he was. He had the whole Ministry in his hand, ready to crush them at his master's slightest whim. As he shivered, Cornelius was grateful, for the first time in his life, his was just the Assistant to the Assistant Minister of Magical Law Enforcement, defiantly no one important enough to be on Lucifer's hit list.   
Suddenly, the telephone rang behind him. As the Ministry's one corespondent with the London   
Chief of Police, Cornelius had to allow himself certain muggle gadgets. Not at all up to his usual bureaucratic standards, he let it ring.   
  
Once...Twice...Three times, his answering machine broke in.   
  
"You have reached the Fudge residence, kindly leave a message after the tone, I will return your call as soon as possible. Thank you."   
  
The beep... Cornelius stared back at the paper, looking at the all too familiar Dark Mark, but he jerked away again when he heard her voice.   
  
"Cornelius? Cornelius, I know you are there! You can't ignore me forever, I can be my own person! Fine, play your game... this is Liv, call me back for once, all right? Bye."   
  
Cornelius walked over to the machine and pressed erase.   
  
  
----  
  
  
"Idiot," Liv muttered as she slammed down the payphone.   
  
"You just figured that out?" Sejanus said, leaning against the open door of the phone booth.   
  
Liv ran her fingers through her hair, "He won't even talk to me anymore... I shouldn't have told him."   
  
"I'm sorry," Sejanus smiled slightly as he offered her a straw.   
  
She shook her head as he slipped his hand around her waist. "He hates you."   
  
"I think that would be an accurate observation," Sejanus snorted, "Considering he won't even talk   
to you anymore."   
  
Liv looked around in annoyance, "It's not much of a loss, but this isn't the 1800s. I don't have to   
have his permission to marry."   
  
"Exactly."   
  
"Just don't get me hooked on straws, ok?" she sighed, pulling his out of his mouth.   
  
"You have no idea how hard it is to quit smoking," Sejanus said earnestly.   
  
"That's your lamest excuse yet." Liv rolled her eyes, in the year and a half she had known him   
she still didn't understand his fixation with straws.  
  
"When are you going to marry me, Liv?"   
  
She stopped dead, "What?"  
  
"We've been engaged forever, when are you going to marry me?"   
  
Liv bit her lip, "A year isn't forever, and as I said... this isn't the 1800s."   
  
Sejanus pulled off his sunglasses, "You're just being stupid."   
  
"Maybe," Liv said.  
  
"Why won't you then?" he said.   
  
She quickly looked down, averting his gaze, "I just can't... I'm not ready yet."   
  
He stared at her and suddenly looked away, it was the closest they ever got to arguing. "Alastor wants us to come over tonight."   
  
Liv sighed, "Is Chita going to be there?"   
  
Sejanus smiled slightly, "Liv they're MARRIED," he said the word with great emphasis, "Yes   
she'll be there."   
  
"Alright," she sighed.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Let's do it," Liv said.   
  
"Do what?"   
  
"You know..."  
  
"No," Sejanus said, smiling to make it perfectly clear he knew exactly what she was talking   
about.   
  
"Do what you were talking about--"  
  
"Go to Alastor's?"   
  
"No!" Liv said hitting him playfully.   
  
"Then what?" He said, a broad grin on his face.   
  
"Get married!" She sighed.   
  
"When?"   
  
"Oh... I don't know, next Christmas."   
  
He took a long bite on his straw, "December 25, 1974 it is, and don't be late."  
  
Liv rolled her eyes, "I just wish Cornelius--"   
  
Sejanus put his other arm around her waist, "For once my dear, shut up."   
  
Headless of the staring pedestrians already gaping at their long black cloaks, they kissed, at high noon in the middle of a crowded London street.   
  
  
----  
  
  
"It is done, my lord."   
  
Voldemort stared around the room, its gray cinderblock walls, so depressingly normal no one would think to look for the greatest dark wizard the world had ever known within its confines.   
  
"Roton-Eldrich is dead?" Voldemort said softly, his voice barely audible.   
  
"You read the papers, my lord," the voice said with a dash of sarcasm.   
  
"Patience, patience," Voldemort drummed his long white fingers across a desk. "They assigned Chita Moody to your case."   
  
"So?" the voice betrayed no emotion, as toneless and flat as the cinderblock walls.   
  
Voldemort smiled, letting all of his breath out in a hiss, "I have a long history with Chita Moody, lets just say she has... motivation. You have more to fear from Moody and that idiot husband of her's than the rest of the Ministry combined."   
  
"I don't fear the Ministry."   
  
Voldemort massaged his tongue against his pearly white teeth, "They caught Brock."   
  
"Brock was an idiot."   
  
Voldemort smiled, "They're calling you Lucifer now, my little Death Eater."   
  
The voice came once again, timeless and unreadable, "Is that so?"   
  
"You read the papers..." Voldemort smirked at his own joke, "What would your mother think if she knew they were calling you Lucifer?"   
  
The voice made no reply.   
  
Voldemort leaned forward so that his face was almost touching the Death Eater's, "Don't let your name down, my little Lucifer."   
  
  
----  
  
  
If Liv had to give Chita something, the woman could cook (along with being first class at anything she tried). She sometimes wondered what had ever drawn her to a man like Alastor Moody, but Liv also wondered what she found attractive about Sejanus. Lying down her fork, Liv gazed around the impeccably decorated and immaculate room. Sometimes she felt like Chita was not even human.   
  
"I heard you were assigned to Lucifer," Sejanus said, jolting Liv out of her fit of jealously (The woman even made her own soap!).   
  
"Yes," Chita said, draining her wine. "Three days ago."  
  
"How is it?" Sejanus said, leaning forward.   
  
"He's a monster," Chita replied with a slight glance at Liv, who quickly pasted a smile over her glare. "And we're no nearer to catching him than Voldemort, despite what the papers say."   
  
"Why?" Sejanus said, making a mountain out of his mashed potatoes.   
  
"Its complicated..." Chita bit her lip, thinking. "Let me try to put it simply, whenever a wizard cats a spell, they leave a tiny part of their own magic thrown into its working, almost like a signature. Now anyone that knows how can detect the signature and generally determine who cast the spell, and the more powerful the magic, the easier the signature is to detect. Do you follow me? But a self-spelling wand could have cast Lucifer's work. There is no signature where there should be a very big one; it is like there is no human aspect to him whatsoever. The fact that his spells are... signatureless, for lack of a better word, is why we know he has committed all these murders, but it also makes him doubly hard to trace."   
  
"So, is he human?" Sejanus persisted with a morbid fascination.   
  
"We hope so," Alastor smirked.   
  
"What is Lucifer turned out to be a house elf..." Sejanus mused to no one in particular.   
  
Chita glared at him, she obviously didn't find this remotely funny, "That would be highly unlikely, Sejanus."   
  
"Lucifer would sooner be me than a houself," Liv smiled across the table at Sejanus. "People are more scared of him than Voldemort, I'd say."   
  
Alastor snorted, "That reminds me, I was in Diagon Alley three days ago, right after Evy kicked the bucket. And everyone was talking about it of course, but most people were saying You-Know-Who instead of Voldemort."   
  
"Really?" Chita raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow, "You didn't tell me this?"  
  
"I started laughing, but they didn't seem to find it funny, so they kicked me out of the shop." Alastor shook his head, "'Tis a sad day when the whole nation is calling Voldemort You-Know-Who..."  
  
"How far we have sunk," Sejanus said in a tone of great mockery.   
  
"That's stupid," Liv said, shaking her head.   
  
"And that's an understatement," Alastor grinned, "You-Know-Who... Oh Jesus..." and the four of them collapsed into a fit of laughter.   



	3. Te Adoro

PAS DE DEUX III-- TE ADORO  
  
December 23, 1973  
  
Chita Moody was working late. Working late was not something new to Chita, being the perfectionist that she was, but over the last year and a half it had slowly integrated itself into her daily schedule that now she didn't even notice she was being paid overtime. Chita stared again at the pitifully thin file. She had to give Lucifer something; he was smart, damned smart. It was unnatural. Feeling slightly guilty Chita had to admire his brilliance; Lucifer had evaded almost the entire Ministry of Magic for three years, raking his total number of kills up to eighteen. Though there had been no more murders since Evy Roton-Eldrich, enough buildings had been burned and files stolen that his name still struck fear deep in the soul of the wizarding community. Sighing, Chita poured through the file once again. They didn't have much. In fact they had hardly anything, only one eyewitness report. An old muggle woman who lived next door to Farad Oleoresin, Lucifer's sixth victim, had glimpsed a figure fleeing from Oleoresin's apartment around midnight. According to the old bird, who had been senile and half-blind, Lucifer was around five eight and was wearing black. Chita poured through her head, something just didn't feel right. Not being one to hypothesize futily, Chita usually trusted her gut instinct when it raised its head. Her instinct was telling her she had all the pieces, and no place to start from... No Wait... she did have a starting block, 5'8". Which, on the other hand seriously narrowed down the general population...  
  
Unbidden a face drifted into her mind, a black haired face chewing a straw. Sejanus was short, she would guess around 5'7" or 5'8", and it had been dark... What was she thinking? There was no way Sejanus could be Lucifer, he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts for goodness sake! But what if that was all part of the plan, a tiny lying voice in the back of her head sneered.  
  
"Knock, knock," Chita looked up from the file, startled half expecting to see Lucifer standing there in all his evil glory.   
  
"Alastor," she heaved a heavy sigh of relief, ashamed at her own nervousness, "What are you doing here?"  
  
He smiled, causing the single scar to turn up slightly. "I brought take out Chinese, thought you might be hungry. It's not quite gourmet..."  
  
"Thank God," she said, taking the carton out of his hand. "I was about to die of hunger. So far all I've accomplished is that Lucifer is not Sejanus Cox."   
  
"I could have told you that," Alastor said, "He's not Albus Dumbledore either."   
  
Chita felt a rare moment of helplessness, "Which leaves 10 million wizards worldwide. Jesus, Alastor he's a psychotic sadistic maniac. I don't care what Liv says, if anyone deserves Azkaban, it's him."   
  
"You'll catch him, Chita," Alastor said gently, putting aside his chicken lo mein, "If anyone can do it, it's you."   
  
Chita smiled, "Te adoro, Alastor."   
  
He snickered, ruining the moment, "That Spanish?"   
  
She just stared at him, "Te adoro. And now I have to work."   
  
Ignoring his comment about not being loved, Chita turned away from her husband and to the file on Lucifer, opening on a page listing all of his victims in chronological order. Chita had never paid much attention to this before, but something, maybe instinct, maybe not, made her look at it closer.   
  
Dippet, Edwin   
Pascal, Adam  
Richardson, Titus  
Menton, Eiden  
Nether, Thomas  
Oleoresin, Farad  
Augur, Ursula  
Roth, Otto   
Rutherby, Selene  
Dogma, Edward  
Cinder, Ella  
Montkormik, Bear   
Ermine, Rita  
Twiddle, Winston  
Ender, Nadia  
Turbot, Yvonne  
Telzbourg, Hugh  
Roton-Eldrich, Evy  
  
Chita stared at the list, unable to move. To all Aurors this list was a mystery. The fact that Lucifer's victims had nothing in common had always been a source of great debate in the magical community, most simply wrote it off to madness, but Chita had never been one of the masses. Lucifer was too smart, too logical to be insane... but then again it was as if he simply picked off people randomly, his victims ranging from the Minister of Magic to a file clerk. Though unable to explain why, she felt sure there was something there, in the list... something, but she couldn't tell quite what. Ignoring the signs of obsession and overwork and Alastor's curious stare, she began to mutter to herself, "Dippet, Edwin... E.D...D.E..." then it hit her. The cold morbid logic, the cold morbid genius, hit her full in the face. So Lucifer did have a conscience, or maybe he simply liked games. Either way, Chita felt like she had just been dunked in a pool of icy water, and was chilled to the bone. For Lucifer had left a clue, a clue locked in the names of his victims. Dippet, Edwin... D.E.... Pascal, Adam... P.A... Richardson, Titus... R.T... all the way down to Roton-Eldrich, Evy... R.E.E. Together, the backward initials of his victims, in chronological order, spelled a phrase: DEPARTMENT OF AURORS DECEMBER TWENTY-THREE. Right here, tonight... he would be here tonight...  
  
Suddenly Chita heard a scuffling noise from outside the window, and as Alastor leapt up, spilling his lo mein, Chita ran up to it and threw open the latch. A figure in black was pulling itself over the top of the building. "Lucifer." She almost smiled.   
  
  
----  
  
  
Five minutes before, and five hundred feet below, Sejanus Cox was talking to his little sister. Cait Cox was someone he didn't see very often, as she was spending most of her time in Lower Uganda, studying the magical creatures of Africa as part of a post-Hogwarts graduate program. Cait was making the rare visit for his wedding. "So," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders, "How is Lower Uganda?"   
  
"Nigeria, Sejanus," she said in a tone of long suffering she perfected long ago and reserved particularly for her brother. "And it is beautiful."   
  
"More beautiful than England?" He asked.   
  
"There is actual sun in Nigeria," Cait said, adjusting the black hood she had on over her face, "Do you really insist on these ridiculous things..."   
  
Sejanus pulled his hood off with a flourish, "There's a costume party at the pub around the corner, we're going as Death Eaters."   
  
"You're truly sick," Cait grinned from behind the mask.   
  
"The prize is 50 galleons, you can't expect me to live on a teacher's salary forever," he smiled.   
  
"Shh!" Cait suddenly caught his arm, "What was that?"   
  
Sejanus blinked at her, "What was what?"   
  
"I saw someone go up that fire escape," Cait said, worried.   
  
"You sure?" Sejanus stared into the dark night. "I don't see anyone. That's a ministry building..."   
  
Cait started walking towards the offices, "Come on, what if it's Lucifer?"   
  
"What of it's the janitor?" Sejanus growled.   
  
Behind her mask, Cait smirked, "You have no sense of adventure."   
  
Sejanus pulled out his wand; "My sense of adventure is at home with Liv and Gabriel. I'm a parent, I have to be responsible."   
  
"For old time's sake?" Cait said in a pleading tone.   
  
Sighing, Sejanus nodded, "You owe me. I'm getting bad vibes."   
  
"Since when have you listened to vibes?" Cait laughed. "At least the costumes are appropriate..."   
  
Then, they heard a scraping sound on the top of the building; Cait froze and gaped at Sejanus. "Let's apperate up there," he whispered as she nodded wordlessly.   
  
The world dissolved and reformed in a period of a few seconds, and Sejanus found himself on top of the building, standing across from a black robed figure with a mask concealing their features.   
  
Cait gasped.   
  
The figure stood still for a few seconds obviously as shocked as they were, and then, without warning, it disappeared.  
  
"What the hell?" Cait breathed.   
  
"Lucifer!" With a rush of adrenaline, Sejanus wheeled around to find Chita crawling out of an air vent on the floor of the building. She gave a low laugh, "So it was you."   
  
"Chita?" Sejanus took a step forward; "This is all just a big mistake--"   
  
She stood up, her red robes a beacon in the midnight dark, "Don't give me that, you heartless bastard--"   
  
"No!" Cait spoke up, her voice trembling slightly, "Lucifer was here a second ago, he disappeared... we followed him to the top of the building--"   
  
Chita ignored her as drew out her wand from under her robes. "You're master killed my family three years ago when he was passing through Spain. All of them, my stepmother, my father, my five year old brother. They were found with the Dark Mark burnt into their foreheads! You're sick! You're damn sick! ...And now," she gave a low laugh, a manic glint in her eye, "You're dead, Mr. Cox."   
  
"Chita, no!"   
  
A wave of red fire shot out of her wand, straight at Sejanus. Maybe her hand was trembling, maybe her aim was off, but the beam hit Cait, dead in the chest. She fell to the ground, letting out a piercing scream.   
  
Fell... and lay still.   
  
That was the point when all sanity lost relevance, everything seemed to happen in slow motion, but Sejanus was unable to stop the broken record in his head, a constant loop of red fire, connection, and a scream, red fire, connection, and a scream. So Chita thought he was Lucifer? He'd give her Lucifer. Staring through the blind web of rage that coated and dulled his senses like a scab, he leveled his wand at Chita, who was spitting curses like mad. He didn't care, Cait was dead, Cait was at his feet, Cait would never breathe again. Sejanus hissed the only word of Spanish he had ever bothered to learn, "Adios." And then... he said it, said it without feeling, said it without realizing, and yet, said it with every ounce of soul in his body, "Avada Kedrava."   
  
A flash of green light--  
  
A rushing noise--  
  
A slight thump--  
  
With those words, it was as if a spell was lifted; he blinked and saw Chita lying before him, realized what had happened, saw the wand in his hand, felt the numb feeling crawling up his arm...  
  
... And somehow, somehow, Alastor was kneeling by Chita's side, a look of shock and pain and anger stamped across his face. "You killed her," he said softly, his eyes filled with the same manic rage that had been in Chita's, "You fucking killed her!" His anguished scream still echoed as Sejanus turned and ran.   
  
  
----  
  
  
Sejanus hadn't come home that night, and it was already well into the wee hours of the morning. Liv was beginning to move from worry into panic as she stared maniacally watching the window for any sign of movement on the deserted street below. Knowing Sejanus, this could all be one huge pre-wedding prank, and for the first time in her life, she wished that was all it was. Liv clutched Gabriel to her breast... so close, as if the baby could comfort his mother, wipe away her tears. But he slept on, unawares of the brewing hurricane about to be unleashed on his family. A knock sounded on the door, and setting down Gabriel, Liv rushed to open it, her heart pounding out the panic and fear coursing through her bloodstream.   
  
"Alastor?" Liv saw him, saw his face, saw the look of pain engraved on it and in an instant she knew what had happened. Knew it had been the worst, for Alastor had aged twenty years in the twenty hours since she'd seen him last.   
  
"Where is he, Liv?" Moody said, stepping slowly into the warm light of her home, his shadow a circle of blackness on the pure white carpet.   
  
She shook her head, first in disbelief and then as an answer.   
  
Moody reached out and gripped Liv's shoulder, shaking her violently, "Where is he? Did he come here?"   
  
"No!" she screamed, wrenching herself from his grasp, "I haven't seen him!"   
  
"Don't hide him from me!" Moody snarled, his brogue threatening, "He's Lucifer! He killed Chita, don't you dare hide him!" He raised his fist as if to punch her, but Liv caught it with amazing strength and held him still.   
  
"I am not hiding him! I have not seen Sejanus!" At the sound of his name, Moody flinched. "But if he came to me, I would damn well hide him from you and the rest your self-important damnable Ministry! Don't ask me to betray him. Don't you dare ask me to turn against someone I love. Get out of here! Get OUT!"   
  
With a wrench, Alastor freed himself from her grasp and aimed himself at her, but before he could come any closer, Liv had her wand out and ready.   
  
"Stupefy."   
  
He fell to the ground with a thud.   
  
  
----  
  
  
Liv never visited her brother unless she had to; in fact, she had never even spoken to him since he had learned of her engagement to Sejanus, who, for some unstated reason, he detested. As a result, he had never even seen Gabriel, but desperate times broke all the so-called rules. Hence she found herself, clutching her baby, on his front step.   
  
"What do you want?" he said, gritting his teeth against the cold December wind.   
  
"Help," she stated firmly, as her insides crumbled. For Liv was blisteringly aware that the wind was cold, her life was in shambles, and all bets were off.   
  
"You came to the wrong place," he sneered, trying to slam the door in her face.   
  
"Cornelius," she said, holding the door open with her foot. "I'm your sister. If you loved me at all, at least listen to what I have to say."   
  
"I do love you," Cornelius said dutifully.   
  
Liv laughed harshly, "And that's why I'm standing out here in the snow?" Embarrassed,   
Cornelius widened the crack on the door a little more. "You're an officer with the Ministry's law enforcement. I know they have Sejanus in custody, he's not used to being chased, he doesn't know how to hide. You have to get him released, he's innocent."   
  
Cornelius gave her a pitying stare, "Livilla, he killed Chita Moody, and is accused of being   
Lucifer, there is no way this man is innocent. I can only thank God that he's in custody."   
  
"Thank God all you want, you have to help me get him out of there!" Liv exploded.   
  
"I have an oath of loyalty--"   
  
"Damn your oath of loyalty!"   
  
"Now Livilla," Cornelius turned bright red.   
  
"Don't you dare Livilla me," Liv screeched. "I has been Liv for twenty-four years, and you haven't cared enough to even notice that!"   
  
"There is no need to get personal!" Cornelius bristled.   
  
"No need to get personal?" Liv raged, "I am about to marry Sejanus, in less than twenty-four hours, how could this not be personal! Answer me that, you little man--"   
  
Cornelius began to tremble with fury, the fact that Liv, his little sister, was 5'8" and taller than he was never ceased to whet his anger. "Sejanus is not the man you thought he was!" Cornelius bellowed, throwing the door open in his fury.   
  
"You're damn right," Liv yelled, "He's ten times the man I thought he was!"   
  
"He's Lucifer!" Cornelius screamed. "Get that into your head, Livilla!"   
  
"Oh no..." Liv said, pointing at him, caught in a fit of blind fury. "Oh no he's not, and you know why? You want to know why, bastard? I am."   
  
Cornelius gaped at her, his eyes wide with shock, "You're crazy."   
  
"Happy Christmas," Liv spat as she pulled up the sleeve of her robe, revealing the Dark Mark branded there for all eternity. Cornelius almost choked, "You're afraid of me. Good. In the spirit of the season, I'll give you an early Christmas present." Liv sneered as she thrust Gabriel into Cornelius's arms. "Where are they keeping him?" Cornelius stared at her, a look of horror and revulsion on his face, "Where is he!" Liv screamed.   
  
"Charing Cross Road, the Law Enforcement offices..." Cornelius stammered dumbly.   
  
Liv smiled, baring all her teeth, "Thank you, brother dearest," and with that, she disappeared into the night.   
  
  
----  
  
  
Liv never knew what brought her to the church, only that when she saw its great stony walls and high oaken doors, she knew she had to go inside, only dimly aware of why she was there. As her footfalls rang on the hard marble floor, a tiny man stuck his head out through one of the open office doors, "Can I help you, miss?"   
  
Liv blinked at him, and slowly walked into the brightly-lit room. "Forgive me father, for I have sinned," she said, before she realized what she was saying. Liv had only heard the words before in various movies she went to with Muggle friends from the ballet, and being an atheist, she had no right to use them, but at the moment she couldn't give a shit either way.   
  
The man reached into his pocket for a pair of glasses, and pushed them onto the bridge of his nose while gesturing for Liv to sit down. "How have to sinned, my child?"   
  
Liv took the seat and looked up into the man's eyes, "I've killed eighteen people." She paused and waited for the immensity of this statement to sink in, but the man showed no reaction. "I'm the most feared murderer of the wizarding world, they're calling me Lucifer... the angel of death. I have a son named Gabriel, like the archangel, always thought it was a tremendous irony." She paused, trembling slightly when she thought about where she had left Gabriel... the future he had in store for him once their story hit the papers. "The first person I killed was Edwin Dippet, Avada Kedrava, and I stuffed him in a bathroom. I could have killed anyone; put Dippet had the right initials. Then Adam Pascal, who died after the fifth round of the Cruciatus Curse. Titus Richardson I'm particularly proud of. I conjured a snake and slipped in his bed while he was sleeping. I was going to destroy the Department of Aurors last night, send poison gas through the ventilation system, and kill every one inside. But... I ran into Sejanus on the roof of the building, I got... disoriented... I disappeared; I don't know what happened after that. I'm in love with Sejanus, you see, and I can't let him die like... like I deserve to. He's under arrest for my crimes, they're going to send him to Azkaban... and I can't let him go, even, even if... please, please understand..." she looked up and realized she was crying the salt tears running in intermingled paths down the curve of her neck.   
  
"Why did you kill all those people?" the priest asked, his expression unwavering.   
  
Liv had often asked herself that question before, why had she joined the Death Eaters... and for the first time in her life she knew the answer. "Boredom. I'm a damn monster, aren't I father?"   
He just stood there, in a pause to last a lifetime.   
  
"I have to go... turn myself in," Liv said, staring down at her hands. "I can't let him die for me, not when I'm mostly dead already... I... I'm so sorry--" her voice cracked and her head fell into her hands, her body rocking with sobs. Liv knew, with every grain of soul she possessed that she would never see daylight again. She danced a too far precarious dance between good and evil, the aurors and Voldemort that the lines became blurred, along with her sense of black and white; the black and white within herself too intertangled and indistinguishable for her not to tremble, and the precarious balance on which she existed: fall.   
  
Raising her head up with his hand, the priest stared her in the eye, "Give into your better angels, Lucifer. Do not let the gates of heaven turn you away yet."   
She looked up into his clear blue eyes; "I just want to rest."   
  
"That will come soon enough," he smiled wryly, "Too soon for all of us, I'm afraid. Save one life, Lucifer, and you begin to pay the debt to the eighteen you cut short."   
  
Liv sat there for the briefest of moments, suspended in limbo, unsure of which way to turn.   
Then, slowly, painfully she got to her feet, "Thank you father."   
  
"I'm not."   
  
"What?"   
  
The man once again gave her a wry smile; "I'm the janitor."   
  
  
  
ok... authors note time!! Firstly hats off to Blaise who guessed Lucifer correctly. thanks to everyone who reviewed ( :O) ) it really made my day, and thanks specially to Blaise and Person for your constructive criticism. alright, for those of you that asked, I got the names Liv (or rather Livilla) and Sejanus from an old Roman story. Livilla was married to the Emperor's son Castor, but she was having an affair with the Emperor's chief bodyguard, Sejanus. Sejanus wanted to marry Livilla, so they poisoned Castor, but the emperor forbade the match, so instead Sejanus married Livilla's daughter with Castor, Helen. Still continuing their affair, Livilla and Sejanus made plans to overthrow the Emperor (Tiberius if you care), but Tiberius was alerted to the plot by Livilla's mother, who found some letters to Sejanus in her room. Sejanus was executed and Livilla locked in her room by her mother who stood outside the door and listened while she starved to death. very pleasant story, but onto other matters, please read and review, (I reiterate... REVIEW!!!) Constructive criticism is always appreciated, and I want Leef to know this is all for you... I was going to wait a few days so I could type this up leisurely, but instead I slaved long hours over the keyboard when I could have been sewing my pointe shoes, so you better appreciate it :O). see how much I love you, Leef? just kidding, but g'night to all until next time and do review...   



	4. Lucifer's Better Angels

PAS DE DEUX IV-- LUCIFER'S BETTER ANGELS  
  
DECEMBER 24, 1972  
  
It took Liv twenty minutes to get to Charing Cross Road.   
  
It took her another five to get into the Ministry building.   
  
It took her twenty seconds to plan what she would say in her head, and forty more to feel it in her heart.   
  
It took her a heartbeat to find the cell.   
  
"Sejanus!" It looked as if there would be no speech, no redemption, for Sejanus was splayed across the back wall of the cell, blood oozing from an ugly bruise on his temple. He was knocked out. "Sejanus... wake up... please..." she knelt down at his side, and realized she was crying freely. She should have married him when she had the chance. However, Lucifer had a conscience, often beaten down and forgotten that would not let her go through with the ultimate deception. Liv, blinking through her tears, stared at him, memorizing every detail in case she never saw him again, the curly black hair, now matted with blood, his nose, the small scar under the chin. His lips so often twisted into a cheeky grin... so often kissed. She would have let go a long time ago if it was not for Sejanus, he had convinced her through all of her self-hate that she really might be worth something. Now, her worth began clear, to save a descent human being. Liv reached out and took his unconscious face in her arms, kissing those lips one last time and bringing it to her breast. "...'Til death do us part," she whispered, thinking of the ceremony about to take place in less than twelve hours, "'Til death do us part."   
  
"How touching," sneered a cold voice behind her. Her heart skipped more than a few beats as she turned around. Liv breathed a sigh of relief. It was Albus Dumbledore.   
  
"Professor Dumbledore," she said, not conscious of her tearstained face or position in a high security area,   
"Sejanus is innocent, you have to believe me--"   
  
"There's nothing I like less than a Death Eater turned traitor," Dumbledore interrupted, as he took a step towards Liv, his blue eyes flashing menace.   
  
"What?" Liv stared up at him in untapped amazement, mingled with fear.   
  
A cruel smile played around the edges of Dumbledore's beard; "Polyjuice potion is truly a remarkable invention, my little Lucifer."   
  
Liv's heart sank as a fierce anger lit it ablaze. How dare he, who had stolen her humanity, steal her one chance at redemption, "I'm not your little Lucifer anymore!"   
  
"No," Voldemort reached forward and gripped Liv by the chin; "You will always be my little Lucifer. You enjoyed it, didn't you? Hearing them scream? Seeing those lifeless eyes? Smelling the death--"   
  
"STOP!"   
  
Voldemort chuckled, "You can't escape yourself."   
  
"I love Sejanus," Liv said firmly, "I don't belong to you anymore."   
  
Voldemort pulled a wand out of Dumbledore's robes, stroking it longingly, "And that is why I have to dispose of you, Lucifer."   
  
"My name is Livilla!"   
  
"This is Cox's wand, in case you didn't recognize it," Voldemort hissed, stroking it with his fingers, "Just one little curse... and then I place it in his hand. The results would be "unforgivable"..." he smiled at his own joke. "It would be all over the papers, my dear. Lucifer, along with his best friend's wife, kills his own fiancé. Terrible tragedy, warranting a life sentence in Azkaban."   
  
Liv swallowed hard, a cold feeling creeping up her spine. "You can't do this!" Ignoring the consequences, she spat in his face.   
  
Voldemort slowly wiped the spittle from his jaw and then flicked it onto the floor in disgust, obviously relishing the moment. "Watch me," he finally hissed. "Oh wait, you'll be dead..."  
  
"I'll see you in hell," Liv whispered as he leveled the wand.   
  
"Avada Kedrava." She dropped to the floor without a sound.   
  
Smiling at the genius of it all, Voldemort slipped the wand into Sejanus's hand. It was all so perfect.   
  
"Professor Dumbledore?"   
  
Turning around, Voldemort saw Alastor Moody standing behind him with a look of raw shock engraved into his face. "I found them like this," Voldemort said in the tone of false sympathy he had perfected in his years at the orphanage. "He killed her, Alastor, Avada Kedrava."   
  
Moody fell to his knees, staring dumbly at Liv's dead body, and Sejanus's live one. Voldemort could already see the cogs turning in his head see the stone settling in on his face, see his heart turn against the man he had once held so dear.   
  
"I need to be alone... with them..." Alastor said croakily, the self-blame and hatred already resilient in his voice.   
  
Voldemort knelt down beside the quailing man, and gently laid a hand on his shoulder, "Happy Christmas, Alastor," he said with a wry smile.   
  
DISCLAIMER-- JK owns everything except for sejanus, liv, gabriel, chita, cait, mrs. crunchmas and her dog, all of lucifer's victims and laurel brock, who belong to themselves, except for sejanus who I suppose sort of belongs to horace segal (a former character, long and involved story don't ask)   
  
the end. I hope you all enjoyed it, and I want to thank everyone who reviewed, blaise, katie bell, juliana, person, leef, molly, A.N.E., Peeves, NS, and to thank anyone that read this and didn't review (I urge you to please review now, any suggestions/raves/flames are taken to heart and appreciated). te adoro is I love you in Spanish, for those of you that don't know... and well thanks again. it will probably be a while before I post anything else, my muses don't seem to be speaking to me, or in plain English I have the classic writer's block. if you guys have any suggestions/ideas please leave in the form of reviews. and for anyone that cares, don't you think joaquin phoenix (the emperor in gladiator, to die for, return to paradise) would be a great viktor krum if they ever got around to making the fourth book into a movie? (im personally against the movie but...). speaking of gladiator, I heard they were considering russell crowe (the gladiator) for the role of sirius black, im not sure if he wold work out... how did I get off on this tangent anyway, ill stop rambling well leave any opinions or anything else in the form of reviews. love you all, and thanks again.   



End file.
